Forgotten Frances
by curlyq07
Summary: Frances is a normal American girl, or is she? When a vacation to London with her family takes place she is transported to another world, the world of magic, where she realizes what she really is.
1. Frances

Chapter 1  
  


Frances stormed out of the house in a rage. The door opened itself before she even got over to it, but she was so angry she didn't even think twice about it. Stuff like that happened from time to time anyway. When she was happy, everything around her seemed to become brighter, but she always took it for granted, thinking it was because she was happy things had more vibrant colors.  
But most would agree the oddest thing was when she would dress up, for Halloween and such. Putting on an old lady costume would instantly give her wrinkles, and cells don't just die to create wrinkles for a simple costume. When she dressed as a boy, her chest instantly became smaller and her shoulders became a bit broader. Once she dressed as a cat, and she sprouted whiskers that were three inches long, three on each side. Terrified that such a thing had happened, she immediately took off the costume and handed it back.  
These things had made her seem a bit weird to a lot of people, but that didn't mean she was always alone because of these freakish happenings. But there was one time she was alone, and that one time was today.   
Her friend, Jill, had told her that Frances' boyfriend had cheated on her, with Jill. Her other friends, when Frances complained about the situation to them, pointed out that she new Jill had a really big crush on him when she went out with him, but Frances was told it was just a thing, like a oh my God he is SO hott kind of thing. Obviously this wasn't true, but Frances didn't know.  
So the few people she knew would be on her side had left for vacation, since it was Spring Break and they were all going skiing, but she and her family were going to England, and the final straw was when her mother told her to clean her room and fix her bed. Nobody to tell her problems to, she yelled at her mom and said it was her room and if her mother wanted it clean then she should clean it herself, and ran out of the home. She knew this wasn't a particularly good idea, since they were all going to London tonight and they needed to leave for the airport in an hour, but she couldn't deal with anything right now. She ran to the park, breathed and calmed herself down, and started the trek back to her house, glad that her eyes were too dry to cry. She was going to enjoy the last day in California for a week, and proceeded to walk back to the house.  
  
Ron was going to stay in Hogwarts for Easter Break with Harry. Why not, he figured. His mother was just going to be stressed out by all the Order of the Phoenix stuff anyway. And he was a prefect, so he had to stay. Plus, Voldemort was loose, and Harry would pretty easily be caught in trouble with Him because Harry was the main target for all of Voldemort's stuff anyway. Hermione was gonna stay, too, so they'd protect Harry together, not that he needed too much of it. Ron would much rather be protected when it came to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named than do the protecting, but he figured Harry is pretty good at wand-to-wand combat and that he'd only need a very little extra help to defeat Lord Voldemort. Plus, Hermione was basically fearless, while Ron was... not. He also had a lot of homework to do and was pretty much swamped. But he was so tired, he figured a little rest wouldn't do him too much harm, right? Just a bit of a cat nap...  
  
The plane had landed an hour ago, and Frances and her parents with her three siblings, one older brother and two younger sisters, were sightseeing, having already put their stuff in the hotel. What possessed them to go to the train station she didn't know, because usually her father's not that big of a fan of trains. But he said he'd heard from a friend, whom Frances always thought strange and off, and seemed like he was always just about to let you in on this big secret, like there are aliens among us, but stops just in time; well, that same man told her father that platform nine and ten are great spots to be in London. Frances looked at them and didn't see what was so great about it. She leaned on the wall halfway between the two platforms while her dad and mom looked around for the reason of this place's greatness and her two younger sisters fought and her older brother flirted with a British girl when she suddenly fell through the wall. She looked around and found herself in another train station with people wearing cloaks and waving sticks about.  
What is this place? she thought. Where am I?  
  
Alright, this is the first chapter. I'm working on the second. It's pretty short, huh? Oh well, it's a good place to stop, I thought. Please review, I want to know what you thought. Thanks, y'all.  
  
CurlyQ07


	2. The New Girl

Chapter 2  
  


Albus Dumbledore felt a jolt in his office, something he always felt when something had gone terribly wrong. He sighed and looked into the mirror he kept in his desk that told him what was wrong. Immediately he saw Frances, looking around wildly.  
"A muggle in Platform 9 3/4? We need to modify her memory."  
He reached to call Professor McGonagall, but he realized she was not just a muggle. With a start he realized she was a witch. How come no one had notified him? She had a great deal of magical potential in her, Dumbledore noted as he looked at her more closely. He had a gift for seeing how magically powerful another witch or wizard was.  
Again he reached to call Professor McGonagall. This time he was to inform her of the new student that would be attending Hogwarts.  
  
Frances looked around. She sat on a bench. Where was the place she fell through, anyway? She didn't want to ask anyone, and she wasn't sure she wanted to run into a wall either. So she sat there, trying to think of how she was going to get out of this place, when a train appeared. A man with dark hair stepped out and walked over to her.  
"Do you know what this place is?" he sneered.  
"No," she answered.  
"Oh, then you are the girl. Would you like an explanation?"  
"Yes."  
"This is Platform 9 3/4, halfway between Platform 9 and 10 in the muggle world."  
"The what world?"  
"They didn't tell me you were American." He sighed. "This will take longer, then."  
"Look, I didn't ask for any help. You can leave whenever you want."  
"I didn't ask to give it to you. Anyway, I have something extremely important to tell you. You are not a muggl- a normal human being."  
"I know tae-kwon-doe, so I 'm going to ask you to lea-"  
"I'm not quite sure what tae-kwon-doe is, and I'm not sure I care. I don't think it is a match against magic."  
"It wouldn't be if magic existed."  
"What do you think these wands are for?"  
"Wands? These are wands you're using. Oh god." Frances started laughing hysterically. "Who is your cult leader?"  
"I'm serious. I'm a wizard. You're a witch."  
"I may have my bad days, like today, but that doesn't make me a witch."  
"Look, do I have to prove it to you?"  
"Yes, I guess you do."  
"What do you want me to do?"  
"Turn this bench into a frog."  
"Ah, transfiguration." He snapped his wrist and mumbled some words, and voila! A frog appeared where the bench was. Frances turned to him, her expression one of terror.  
"Uh, ok. What was it you were saying?"  
He rolled his eyes. "I'm a wizard. You're a witch. You can do this with practice. Make potions, etcetra. It's a new world, one outside of the muggle world."  
"Okay, what the hell is a muggle?"  
"Watch you language." The man slapped her.  
"Ow!"  
"Don't make me do it again. I am a teacher, and where I teach we do not accept vulgar language."  
"I'm sorry."  
"Good. Now, a muggle is a human, one who does not have magical powers. Now, there are people in the magical world that do not have powers, but they use magic to their advantage, creating potions and going to joke shops and such. They are called quibs. Muggles hate magic and do not use it, idiotic if you ask me. You are a witch, one that must have been forgotten or, we don't know who would do such a thing, purposely dismissed as a muggle. Do you know what a mudblood is?"  
"No."  
"That's what you are. Also most likely the reason you were not acknowledged as a witch. Anyway, I am a teacher at Hogwarts, a school for witches and wizards. The headmaster-"  
"Headmaster? Is this a boarding school?"  
The man laughed. "All schools of wizardry are boarding schools. Anyway, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, would like a word with you."  
"Anytime. Of course. Whatever you say."  
They boarded the train. The man scared Frances. She finally got the courage to look at him, but by that time they were almost at their destination. With a small voice, she asked him a question that had been burdening her since they boarded the train.  
"Sir?"  
"Don't sir me, call me Professor Snape."  
"Sorry, Professor Snape. Well, Professor Snape, what about my parents?"  
"They have been notified."  
  
Ron woke with a start. He looked at the time.  
"Damn," he muttered. "Some cat nap. I slept for eight hours and I still need to do the homework, let alone study for the year end exams."  
"Yeah, how are we gonna fit it all in?" Harry wondered aloud.  
"At least we're done with O.W.L's."  
"Yeah, I guess."  
Suddenly they heard a big commotion in the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron dashed out of their dormitory.  
"What's going on?" Ron asked.  
"You haven't heard?" Hermione answered.  
"No..." Harry responded.  
"Oh. Well, there's going to be a new girl."  
"What?" Ron asked.  
"A new girl? In April?"  
"Not just that, she's never gone to a wizarding school," Dean Thomas put in.  
Ron and Harry looked at each other.  
"How old is she?" Ron asked slowly.  
"Fifteen."  
"Fifteen," Harry repeated. Fifteen and she was only starting to learn magic? That was kind of stupid, he thought. Ron was thinking the same thing.  
"Not only that," Ginny added, "She's American!"  
"What has that got to do with anything?" Ron asked.  
"Well, I dunno..."  
"It explains the stupidity," Harry answered.  
"That's not fair," Ron said. "She could be smart for all you know."  
"Who cares," Dean Thomas said. "What does she look like?"  
"What does that matter?" Hermione yelled, outraged. "It's someone's personality that matters!"  
"You keep telling yourself that, Hermione," Ron answered.  
  
"Hello, my name is Albus Dumbledore, and I am Headmaster as Hogwarts."  
Frances smiled. He seemed very nice and wise. "Hi, I'm Frances, nice to meet you, Mr. Dumbledore."  
"That's Headmaster Dumbledore to you, Frances," Snape snapped.  
"Sorry."  
"It's alright. You may just call me Dumbledore."  
"Thank you, Dumbledore."  
"Severus, if I may have a word with Frances alone?"  
"Yes, Dumbledore." Snape left the room.  
"So, Frances, would you like to become a student at Hogwarts?"  
"Are all the teachers like Professor Snape?"  
Dumbledore laughed, but not at all like Professor Snape. When Snape laughed, it was at you and it was to belittle you. When Dumbledore laughed, it was goodnatured.  
"No. We have Professor McGonagall, who is strict, but very goos to her students. Professor Sprout is a nice teacher, and Hagrid's class is very interesting."  
"Cool. But would I be able to see my parents? Like, won't they wonder where I am?"  
"We sent them a letter."  
"But we live in California, and we're vacationing in England, how will they know? Would they leave the country without me?"  
"No, I sent it to their hotel room."  
"Oh. Ok. They know I know where that is."  
"Now, we don't want a big commotion about this, so we'll just let you do the Sorting Hat in here."  
"The what?"  
"The Sorting Hat. It's a hat that sorts first-years into different houses. You'll be studying separately from the other students and doing more work. I'll tutor you and help you every day."  
"Okay, thank you. So, are the Houses are different from each other, like one for smart people, one for funny people, like that?"  
"Yes. There is one for intelligence, Ravenclaw, one for Slytherin, pure-blooded wizard, ones whose parents were wizards, and their parents, and their parents, and so on, an then there's one for bravery, Gryffindor, one for the rest, Hufflepuff. So, let's put the hat on and see which one you are."  
_I hope I'm not Hufflepuff, _Frances thought. _Maybe Ravenclaw, but that'd be kinda annoying with all those smart people sometimes. Slytherin sounded pretty stupid, just a bunch of witches and wizards that have parents that are witches and wizards, that's not a big accomplishment. Gryffindor sounded cool, I think I want Gryffindor. Yeah, Gryffindor.  
  
_"Well, what house is she in?" Ron asked.  
"We... don't exactly know yet," Hermione answered.  
"And how is she going to catch up on four years?" Ron wondered.  
"Maybe Dumbledore will help her," Harry said, looking off in the distance out the window.   
Why this was so interesting eluded Harry. Voldemort was a very big threat and getting bigger. His Occlumency lessons with Dumbledore were getting steadily harder. A girl who had arrived in a wizarding school four years late wasn't that amazing to Harry when he was dealing with Voldemort. He knew Voldemort was planning an attack on him very soon, so he avoided Snape as much as possible. True, Snape was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, but he had once worked for Lord Voldemort, so he was therefore not to be trusted.  
But for Ron, this was the distraction he needed. With all the work he was loaded with and the threat with Voldemort, a new girl that was pretty much his age was exactly what the doctor ordered. But, Ron reasoned, she'll end up being totally hideous because his life was bloody hell right now.  
"I hope we get her. Then I can help her with everything," Hermione said. "It will be a good deed."  
"Yeah, we figured that. That's because you're Hermione the do-gooder," Ron joked.  
"That wasn't funny, you know," Hermione snapped.  
"Ooh, sorry."  
"Ugh!" And Hermione stomped up the stairs.  
"What? Is it her time of the month or something?"  
Ginny stared at Ron. "That was kind of you to say, Ron. Just make fun of us girls because of our period." Ginny ran up the stairs.  
"What I said wasn't that bad."  
"I know. They're just being girls."  
"And Harry wonders why he isn't a babe magnet," Padma said.  
"Just shush, will you Padma? You're not exactly helping... anything by talking, you know that?" Ron told her.  
"That's very hypocritical of you," Padma said, and she and her sister went up to their dormitory.  
  
Dumbledore smiled. "Just like I thought. I knew the Sorting Hat would pick the right house."


	3. The Gryffindor Common Room

Okay, this is an interjection on my part, but there is more to the story after this. I know there's a few spelling errors, but they're typing mistakes, and if I have a lot of time and patience on my side, then I'll change them. For now, you should be able to figure out goos means good, etc.  
Please please please review! Criticize, commment, everything, I want to fix what I'm doing wrong so I don't do it again in the future. Thank you all so much!!!!!!!!  
  
  
  


Chapter 3  
  


Soon the commotion in the Gryffindor common room cooled down, with help from Ron and Harry saying every imaginable bad comment to send every girl up back to their dormitories.  
"We didn't mean it like that," Harry shouted up the girl dormitory stairs.  
Well, not every girl. Luna Lovegood stayed in the common room.  
"I know that, Harry."  
Ron looked wearily around the common room. There wasn't much else to say that hadn't already been said. Slowly he turned around and headed back up to his dormitory to finish school work.  
  
Frances smiled. "I'm glad I got this house. It's the one I wanted."  
"Gryffindor is a very prestigious house. I figured you would get that house because you had to have been very brave to go through all this. Now I'm going to ask you a few questions.  
"First, would anything odd happen to you in everyday life back where you lived?"  
"Yeah."  
"Like what?"  
"Well, whenever I'd put on a costume, my face would change to fit the costume or my body would change."  
"Ah. Okay, try really hard to look like... Snape. Try to make your face look like Snape."  
"What?"  
"Just try it. Say in your head you want to look like Snape and concentrate on it."  
Frances obliged, confused, and tried hard to make her face look like the unlikeable professor. She tried and tried. Finally Dumbledore smiled.  
"You are a very lucky girl. You are a Metamorphmagus. You can change your appearance at will."  
"Wha- um. Wow. All witches are Metamorphamegathingies?" Her face changed back to normal.  
"No. Not every witch and wizard, very few actually. As I said, you're lucky."  
"Well, that explains a lot."  
"It should. Well, besides that, I think you're a normal witch."  
Frances tried hard not to look too stunned at what Dumbledore had just said.  
"Are you sure normal and witch belong in the same sentence? No offense or anything."  
Dumbledore laughed. "That's true. But do you want to be normal?"  
"Well, I guess not. I've never wanted to be normal. Normal's boring."  
"Good. Now, we'll get you robes." Robes appeared out of thin air. "Some books." Books came toppling down on Dumbledore's already-messy desk. "We'll wait for the wand. I'll walk you to your house."  
Frances smiled and took her robes and tried for the books, but Dumbledore stopped her.  
"Allow me," he smiled.  
With a snap of his wrist the books floated in mid air.  
"Wow. You know, I could probably get used to doing that kind of stuff."  
"I'm sure you could." They walked to the Gryffindor common room. Frances looked around. It was very beautiful, she thought. The pictures were nice- were they whispering? Moving?  
"Do the pictures... talk?"  
"Of course we talk!" said a soldier portrait. "What, do you think we're up here for display?"  
"Um, sorry."  
"It's alright dear. You've never seen active pictures before, have you?" said a plump, older, nice lady.  
"No, can't say that I have."  
"Here we are," Dumbledore announced to Frances. A picture of a fat lady was right in front of them.  
"Hello Dumbledore," she said kindly. "Password?"  
"Fruitbasket." And with that the portrait of the lady swung open and Frances found herself looking at about ten boys and one girl- Luna- in the common room.  
_I know I'm supposed to be a bit less boycrazy, but I think I've hit the jackpot, _Frances thought.  
Dumbledore smiled at all of the students in there. He noted that some of the girls had poked their heads out to see who was there. Upon noticing the new girl, they timidly came out of their dormitories, with much whispering, making Frances feel a bit uncomfortable.  
"News travels quickly," Dumbledore said.  
"Professor McGonagall told me," Dean said proudly.  
"Interesting. And did you already know what house this girl was going to be in."  
"No, Dumbledore," Harry replied.  
"Ah. Well, now you know. Anyway, this here is Frances, she comes from America. We apparently had forgotten about her. Our deepest apologies from the entire wizarding community."  
Frances bowed her head in response.  
"Well, I'm sure all of you will help Frances get acquainted. Welcome, Frances, to Hogwarts."  
  
After a thank you to Dumbledore from Frances and a bit of a silence before Dumbledore headed out, Frances looked around at all of the students in here. Some of them didn't seem very brave, why would they be in the bravery house? Grithindum, was it called? She couldn't remember.  
Finally a red-headed boy stepped out from the croud. "Hello, I'm Ron Weasley, nice to meet you," the boy said, holding out a hand. Frances shook the proffered hand.  
"Frances- but you already knew that."  
Ron giggled a bit nervously. "Nice to meet you," Frances continued.  
"You too."  
The stares from all around were intoxicating. "Um, how long have you been going here, Ron?"  
"I'm a sixth year."  
Frances looked around. "Ah," she responded. What was a sixth year? Finally she got the courage to speak up. "What's that?"  
A few snide comments were heard, and Frances, embarrassed, stood there with nowhere to go.  
"Stop that!" a girl with frizzy hair said. "Stop it now!"  
The laughter increased a bit, and Frances felt herself redden in the face. This was not the way to start off the year. What was so wrong with going back to how she was before? A muggle? Maybe there's some stuff she knew about the muggle world that they didn't. She reached into her pocket and, yes, her iPod was there.  
"A sixth year," Ron proceeded to explain, "is, um, someone who has been going here for six years. Like, in your first year, you would be be called a first year, a second year would have completed their first year and is learning their second year, and so on."  
"Oh," Frances said absent-mindedly.  
"How old are you?" the girl with frizzy hair asked.  
"Fifteen," Frances responded quite truthfully.  
"Oh, so you would be a fifth year. Oh." That last oh was said as if she had just realized something. "Gosh, you would have the O.W.L.'s soon."  
"Owls?" Frances said, fingering her iPod.  
"Ordinary Wizarding Levels," the smaller, red-headed girl answered.  
"What are those?" Frances asked.  
"Tests, tests that determine what kind of job you can get in the wizarding world."  
"So they'd be quite useless in the, um, muggle world, then, huh?" Frances said a bit sarcastically, but the sarcasm was spread very thinly.  
"Well, duh," the boy with black hair and a lightning shaped scar on his forehead said.  
"It was a joke, Harry," Ron said. "Do you know what that is?"  
"Well it wasn't a very good one," Harry huffed, going up the stairs to the male dorms.  
"He has an odd scar, doesn't he?" Frances said. After receiving some stares that reminded her she had no idea what was the current events in the modern wizarding world, she looked imploringly at them.  
"He-who-must-not-be-named gave him that scar when he was a baby, killing his parents," an average-looking boy with a fair amount of freckles told her.  
"Wait, his parents died because this guy that can't be named gave him a scar?"  
"No, Dean isn't very good at explaining things. That man attacked the whole family, and his parents died but Harry was only left with a scar."  
"Oh. What's the man's name, do you know?"  
The room shifted uncomfortably. Finally the frizzy haired girl spoke up. "Lord Voldemort."  
The gasps after she said the name and the calls of "Hermione!" and "Don't say that name!" were all Frances could do to stop her from laughing. She really tried, and all that came out was a giggle that nobody heard.  
But after that giggle she knew they were serious. This man was a murderer. Was he still alive? Was he still killing? Have they caught him? What kind of prison would he be locked in? But it could have been just a one-time instance, Frances knew that as well.  
But not with all that hush-hush and don't-say-his-name crud. "Is he still alive?" Frances finally asked.  
"What?" someone spoke up.  
"Is Lord Voldemort still alive?" Again the gasps and whispers were heard.  
"Yes," a voice said from behind her. She turned to see an elderly professor making her books and cloaks float magically. "I'm Professor McGonagall, in charge of the Gryffindor house. You must be Frances. Yes, he is still alive, but you shouldn't throw such a name as his about. He could kill you in less than a second and make you feel pain you've never felt before."  
Frances felt ashamed. "Sorry, Professor McGonagall."  
"It's quite alright." She sent the clothes up to her dormitory. "Don't let it happen again, though."  
"Yes, Professor."  
  
Okay, this was a very slow chapter that accomplished absolutely nothing, so I promise the next chapter will have something interesting in it. And... that's it. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review!!!!!!!!!!!! Or is nobody reading my special story...


	4. The Ignorance of Witches

Thanks for all the reviews, you guys! It's way helpful. Keep reviewing, please!!!! Chapter 4 After many introductions and some minor chit-chat, Frances finally made it upstairs. She thought about what she had heard, about the Volde- you-know-who guy. Why can't I just say his name? She somewhat understood, that he is way more powerful than any... muggle. Muggle was such a strange word. Who had thought of that word? Muggle. Hmmm. Then, suddenly, she didn't want to think about it anymore. She had never been involved in anything so... deep, she supposed. Frances took out my iPod and listened to some music and almost fell asleep when suddenly shook violently by a girl in her dorm room. She opened her eyes with a start to look at a girl, Lavender, was it? Frances took off her iPod, after putting it on pause, and stared intently at the girl before her. "Yes?" Frances asked, calmly. "What is that you got there?" Lavender asked. "Oh, it's an iPod." After noticing the look of confusion of Lavender's face as tthe rest of the girls, except for Hermione who was studying, stopped talking in their tight circle to look at her. "An iPod?" Lavender asked. "What's that?" "It's a thing you listen to music on. Here, try it." Frances gave Lavender the iPod and put the volume lower, just a tad, before turning it on again. Knowing this is probably any of them had dealt with such a contraption, Frances thought it best to give Lavender some forewarning as she turned it on. "Okay, it's going to be sudden-" Lavender shrieked. Frances, taken aback, put it on pause again. "I told you. Do you want to try again? This time you'll be prepared." Lavender nodded her head. Frances pressed play, and some faint music could be heard. Frances smiled, and started to bob her head up and down. "Drop-kick Murphies, they're pretty good, huh?" The other girl smiled and nodded. Then she joined in the bobbing of their heads. Padma came over. "What is it?" she asked. "Music," Lavender responded. The other girl, Parvati, came over as well, and finally, even Hermione came over. "A CD player, I've heard of," Hermione declared. "But never an iPod. What kind of music do you like? You hear of those American bands, N*Sync, and such?" Frances made an odd facial expression that resembled sucking a lemon. "I, uh, don't like them much," Frances tried to put nicely. "Well, I like them. He went on a solo career, didn't he? I mean, Justin Timberlake. My parents buy the CD's, and I listen to them at home every summer." "Yeah, I don't like him much either." "Really?" Hermione sounded surprised. "I think he's quite... dreamy." "I think he's alright, he looks a bit like a girl. And anyway, Orlando Bloom is the best." "Who?" Padma asked. "An actor." "Oh," Parvati responded. "I think I've heard of him as well. Lord of the Rings, right?" "Yeah, great books. See, he's better than JT, and he doesn't even do crack." "JT?" Hermione asked. "Justin Timberlake," Frances explained. "Oh, of course." "What's crack?" Padma said. Frances looked at Padma incredulously. She saw the same look as she studied each of their faces. Hermione's was one of trying to remember. "I think I might remember, is it some kind of... no, I can't recall." "Crack is marijuana." A look of enlightenment came across Hermione's face, quickly followed by confusion. "I've heard of that, too, but I don't remember..." "It's a drug. Please tell me you know what a drug is." Again, blank faces, except for Hermione. "No, no, this one I definitely know." "How do you know some of these things and they don't?" Frances asked. "My parents are muggles. Some, like Malfoy, call me a mudblood. Don't let them call you that, it's a terrible name." Frances understood, as there were names for that in muggleland as well, for blacks, for women, for everyone. Then she got a bit angry, but couldn't get too angry as it didn't mean too much to her because it wasn't an insult to her, really, as she realized she, too, had been called that vile word. "I've already been called a mudblood," Frances said. "By who?" Parvati asked. "Snape." "Of course," Hermione said. "Of course. Ooh, I hate him." "We'll definitely have to do something about it, but can we PLEASE get back to what drugs are?" Lavender asked. Frances nodded her head wearily. "Yes, it's these substances, some you snort, or sniff, like coke, I mean, cocaine, some you take as tablets, like ecstasy, some you chew on, like grass, that's marijuana, crack, weed, grass, pot, a lot of names for that. Cocaine has a lot of names, coke, dope, and so on. Well, you take it to make you feel good. It gives you a high, a good feeling. Since you like that feeling, you want to take it again, and again, and again, it's addicting, and the only time you're happy is if you're high of drugs. Heroine's the worst, that's a needle injection. Addicts even steal from family to get the drugs. And sometimes it gets mixed up with rat poison, that's mostly coke though, and you can die or get a snapped brain from your first try. They got a lot of stuff like that. It's bad for you, and addicting." "Oh my god," Lavender gasped. "How terrible," Parvati said, astounded. Padma remained quiet, thinking, as Hermione nodded her head. "Yeah, I know. Isn't it terrible?" Hermione interjected. "Pretty sad stuff. What a place we live in, huh?" Frances asked them all. They nodded their head in agreement. "And that Voldemor- you-know-who guy, he sounds worse." "He is," Padma responded. The conversation veered onto what Lord Voldemort does, and they finally went to sleep late, knowing they could wake up whenever they wanted, it is, after all, Easter Vacation. "Where is my baby?" the woman asked, hysterical with tears. "Where is she? Who expects us to believe this?" The man sat down and wept. The children in the room had never seen this man cry before. The two younger ones, both girls, went to comfort the man, as they also were crying. The older boy, he went to the window of the room, obviously a hotel, and looked out. He was thinking, very deep in thought, and obviously not very happy. His eyes were sad. Where was his sister? Where was Frances? There was obviously no such thing as Hogwarts, no such thing as wizards, as witches, as any of those things. Magic did not exist. This went on for twelve hours, more, as the two younger girls, Frances' sisters, cried themselves to sleep, and the father and mother stayed up worrying as the brother tossed and turned, but sleep was not to come for awhile to any of them. Miles away, in her bed, Frances awoke with a start, and a burning sensation was under her chin, on the right side, a bit near the front. She looked in a mirror, and there she saw a red scar in the shape of a heart. Okay, I have a lot of explaining to do, but I promise it will all fit, so sit tight! I promise it will all make sense, or I'll at least try. Thanks for reading and reviewing! 


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